Control
by becky2102
Summary: Who keeps and who loses control, of themselves, of their emotions, of their relationships, when Riker realizes not everything with Troi is what he thought it was.
1. Chapter 1

The starship sped through space while the inhabitants on board barely noticed the stars flying by, ignoring the magnificence of their accomplishment. The bridge crew ran through their daily routines and duties, for nothing out of the ordinary had occurred that day. The crew of the Enterprise was on a mission bringing relief supplies to colonists on a planet decimated by natural disasters. Rebuilding supplies, food, medical supplies, and the labor of Starfleet Humanitarian Relief crews were being delivered.

"Sir, there is a spatial anomaly ahead of us. It appears to be an energy field but it's unlike any I've encountered before," LaForge spoke from his seat.

"Data, what information do you have on it? This isn't a totally unexplored area of space. Someone must have recorded something about this energy field," the Captain spoke with command in his voice.

"Sir, 32 ships have encountered a similar, or possible identical, anomaly in the past 3 years. I am compiling the data now," Data replied, his hands flying over the console.

Later, senior staff gathered around a table as LaForge and Data presented their findings.

"It appears to be a ionized energy field, similar to many seen in space and subspace, but in this case, the ions are arranged in such a way that they interact bizarrely with sources of energy. In particular, ships that run on tirellium energy sources are greatly affected, and are often dead in the water, shall we say, until they can extricate themselves, or be extricated, from the field. The Enterprise herself runs on very different sources of energy, so should not be affected in this way, though there may be others we haven't deduced yet." LaForge paused, his mouth open to continue expounding on the topic when he was interrupted by Commander Riker.

"So what DO we know will be affected by this field and for how long?"

Data spoke up. "At the current rate of speed, we will reach the energy field in approximately 11 hours. It will take us a little less than 3 days at the shortest course to get through it completely, assuming we are able to maintain our rate of speed."

"Which we should," LaForge added, "the engines should not be affected. No major systems will be, though some minor systems, Stellar Cartography, the biobays, and possibly the holodecks, may experience some malfunctions. Nothing that should be a major problem for three days."

"There is one other area of concern, that was mentioned in several of the other reports," Data said, looking at the Captain.

He nodded, urging the android to go on, eyebrows raised in encouragement.

"Sir, 13 of the 42 ships that encountered this anomaly reported significant impact on the members of their crew that were telepathic. It seems the energy field inhibited any control of telepathic powers that the individuals normally had."

"So are you saying this is similar to the instinctual beings we saw previously, when the Enterprise became trapped and Troi lost her abilities?" Riker glanced surreptitiously at Troi, not wanting his friend and colleague to experience that again. He hoped no one had noticed his glance, or at least that no one noticed it might have been less than professional in nature.

"On the contrary, Commander," Data went on. "In that case, Counselor Troi's abilities were totally eliminated by the beings. What these reports describes, is a preservation or even enhancement of telepathic abilities, but a loss of all sense of control of those abilities. Berellians, Vulcans, Betazoids, Temeraths all described significant debilitation in their crew members because they could no longer control any part of their telepathic minds. The most severe cases involve temporary or permanent insanity or disability as a result. The later cases were not as severe, as the ships' doctors had been able to negate, at least in part, the effects."

"Counselor, do you have any additional information about this?" the Captain asked the dark-haired woman sitting across from him.

"I've never heard of this particular phenomenon," Troi replied. "Telepathic abilities are very carefully controlled and cultivated in all cultures and species that have them. Almost without exception, there is an acknowledgement that telepathy without control leads to profound unhappiness, psychosis, or insanity. Without the proper guidance and control, telepaths are overwhelmed by the thoughts that appear in their mind. They are usually guided and taught as soon as any ability appears."

THe Captain seemed to consider this, then, taking an extra look at his Counselor and Advisor, wondering what this would mean for her, turned to the other woman sitting down the table from him. "Doctor, how many telepaths, or any species that may be affected, do we have on board?"

"Seven. Seven full telepaths, plus I know there are several that have either limited telepathic abilities or abilities that work in a similar fashion." The red-haired doctor also glanced at Counselor Troi, knowing that her empathic abilities would need addressing. "I think I can come up with a solution to protect them, but I'm going to have to get started right away. There are probably going to have to be multiple solutions and multiple innoculations to get each individual treated properly in time." She stood to leave, gathering her PADDs. "Counselor, will you meet me in Sick Bay when you are done here?"

Troi nodded, "Yes, of course."

The Captain looked around the table. "Very well. Geordi, Data, take who you need and get started analyzing exactly what parts of this ship will be affected by this anomaly, and take any steps you need to protect it. I DO NOT want this ship dead in the water. There is a planet full of colonists waiting for our arrival. Plus I don't want to explain to Starfleet Command why it's flag ship needed to be towed out of the mud, understand?"

Nods around the table came quickly, as everyone rose leave the room.

"The mud, Sir?" Data asked. "There is no mud currently surrounding the Enterprise. Do you refer to a figure of speech?"

THe Captain looked at Data and then at LaForge with an expression of exasperation, which clearly meant "can you please deal with this right now?"

LaForge grabbed Data by the elbow and steered him out the room, "It's an expression, Data….." His voice trailed off.

"Counselor, a minute please?" the Captain requested looking at Troi as she headed towards the door.

"Of course, SIr," she nodded briefly to others as they left, as if saying she would catch up with them later, and turned toward the Captain.

"Counselor, It is imperative you do whatever you can to protect yourself from whatever this thing is. When we get to Spectrai 4 there are going to be a lot of people who need you. And that is not including the crew members on board who are going to have some challenges in the next few days." He looked down at her with a knowing, yet caring expression. He knew his Counselor. He knew she cared deeply for her crew and patients. He also knew that she tended to put off caring for herself until everyone else was seen to. He'd come to care for her personally as a friend as well, in the past couple of years together. For some reason seeing her suffer, when she did so much to relieve the suffering of others, made him even more protective of her than he normally was of his crew.

"Yes, Captain, of course," she replied. "I'm heading to sick bay now," she reassured him. She gave him a smile that let him know she knew exactly what he was referring to, and that she was touched by it. She was slightly embarrassed, that this man she respected so much felt the need to single her out for extra caution, as if it made her slightly less competent, but she also knew that it was done with good intentions. It would not have been appropriate of her to bring that up with a commanding officer anyway.

In sick bay, several hours later, Doctor Crusher outlined her plan of care for the crew members likely to be affected for Commander Riker and Counselor Troi, who stood in front of the console in her office.

"The Vulcans will go into stasis, effectively shutting down their minds until we are clear of the anomaly. Lieutenant Talla is Tarathian and for him and for the two Mipa on board, I have an hypospray of anti-sero-Ion transmitters which should disable their telepathy. Ensign Vollar is half-Vulcan and unable to initiate stasis. She will have to remain in sickbay so I can tailor injections to her response as I don't know how she will react. You, Counselor," she said to the shorter woman next to her, "I think should take a similar course, though I am not sure Sick Bay in the proper place for it."

Troi stood a little surprised. She had understood the implications for herself nearly immediately. As an empath, her abilities were similar enough to telepathy that she was likely to be affected. She had simply assumed, with great faith in her friend, that the Doctor would have a simple solution. "Is a anti-sero-Ion transmitter injection not effective for an empath?" she asked.

Commander Riker looked at Counselor Troi with concern. He touched the back of her arm briefly in support. Deanna felt his touch, and his concern, but didn't immediately acknowledge either, with all of the other people in Sick Bay right now.

"Well, yes, it is," the Doctor replied, "but I am not confident it will be enough. There isn't enough research on half-Betazoid empaths to know exactly how you will respond. With telepaths it's more simple. Telepathy is controlled solely with the brain, thus it is easy to inhibit and enhance artificially. Empathy, is more complex, involving more body systems, and while I think the same injection will work, I'm afraid it might not be complete enough." She paused, glanced at the two in front of her. Deanna's dark eyes seemed to have gotten bigger, if possible, as she considered that there might not be an effective solution for her. Commander Riker's eyes were couched in concern. The Doctor looked at the two of them, standing perhaps a hair closer than they should be, but not close enough to cause remark. She always wondered what was between her two colleagues. She was close with Deanna, as close as anyone was on the ship, but her friend had never shared the details of her relationship with Will Riker. The Doctor knew the had a relationship of sort in the past, but didn't know of what sort, how serious, or what had happened. What she did know was that the two people in front of her had an energy when together that she couldn't describe. And she knew she wasn't the only one who was aware of it. "I have some scans I'd like to complete on you, Counselor, as soon as possible."

The Counselor nodded. Commander Riker followed the two women out of the office into the Sick Bay proper. "Appraise me on your progress, Doctor, and make me aware of any needs or particular challenges that arise."

"Yes, sir," the Doctor replied, half distracted by the data she was analyzing on the screen in front of her. He watched as the Counselor hopped up onto the biobed closest to the doctor and quietly waited. He wondered what she was thinking. For all her ability to feel the emotions of others, she often kept her own emotions hidden and was notoriously hard to read, even for someone who knew her as well as he did. He knew it was intentional, a defense mechanism of sorts. Raised in a society where your thoughts were fair game to everyone, guarding one's emotions became even more important.

Though her appearance on the biobed appeared calm, in her head Deanna Troi was frantically working out the scenario as fast as she could, trying to account for all the possibilities. If Doctor Crusher couldn't come up with a way to effectively suppress the effect of the energy wave, she would have three days of dealing with the emotions of over 1,000 people aboard this ship. When she had first arrived on the ENterprise, the presence of that many people in one confined space was a struggle to manage with all her abilities in full power, much less with her control disabled.

When she left the sick bay almost an hour later, she felt she'd undergone every neurological and physiological test possible. The doctor still didn't have a clear answer, but at last she had a variety of options in her arsenal. Deanna, for her part, was going back to her quarters. She had several hours to finish up some case files and crew reports before having to commit some serious effort to meditation to try and alleviate some of the effects.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours later found the Counselor sitting on the floor in her quarters, cross legged, wearing leggings and a wrap around skirt-dress, in front of three candles, eyes closed in meditation. The chime on her door rang. Then rang again. And then rang a third time before the woman opened her dark eyes in response. Was that the door? She wondered as the chime rang a fourth and fifth time. "Enter," she said quickly, as she rose to greet her visitor. "Doctor, I'm so sorry," she said as Beverly strode into the room.

"Oh, I interrupted your meditation. My apologies. I wanted to bring you the hyposprays and go over the plan. She had 4 hyposprays in a carrying case. "This one," she gestured to the first and largest, is the anti-sero-Ion transmitter. We will do this one now, right before we enter the anomaly. It may inhibit your abilities, so you are aware." She glanced at her friend and they both suppressed a smirk, remember the accusations and apologies they'd shared when Deanna had lost all her abilities. The others are something we can use if the first doesn't work and you feel that it is needed. Myself or one of the medical staff will check in on you every hour during the day and every two hours at night, or more if we need to. I think it's better to keep you in your quarters, where there is less emotional lability and exposure than in sick bay."

Troi nodded at all of this. "How confident are you in this plan, Beverly?" she asked, uncertain about how this question would be received.

"Honestly, Dea, not very. I mean, I think it will work. It's certainly the very best option we have, but your abilities are so complex, and in a way that we don't totally understand. Even with compiling all the information we could get from the Betazed libraries, I'm still not 100% sure I understand how your abilities work. Telepathy is simple, ability to read mind and speak into another's mind goes up with the level of Sero-Ion Transmitters. Without those, no telepathy. You have a fraction of these transmitters that a telepath does, yet your empathic abilities far surpass theirs in some areas. Congratulations, Counselor, you've stumped me."

Deanna gave the doctor something that was a combination of a smirk and a smile, and said reassuringly "I am sure it will be fine, and if not, I'll call you and we will change something. After all, it's only three days."

Suddenly their com badges beeped, "All staff, we are approaching the anomaly. Prepare for contact in 3 minutes."

"I guess it's time then," Deanna said, turning and offering her neck for injection. She heard a slight hiss as the hypospray went in. She then attached a small device to Troi's temple. This will transmit some basic information and vital signs to sick bay. The doctor was closing the container and prepared to head out.

"I or Dr Halva will be here to check on you in an hour. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call." Deanna nodded in return. The doctor left her alone and she shrugged her arms around herself as if trying to give herself some reassurance.

Two hours later, Doctor Crusher looked up from her console in Sick Bay and surveyed the room. So far everything was calm. She needed to get down to check on Deanna. Dr Halva had gone an hour ago and said the Counselor seemed to be coping well. She was meditating and hadn't had any complaints, just a slight rise in tension. Beverly frowned as she quickly reviewed the results of the scans sent over from the device Deanna was wearing, and though they looked adequate, she had hoped for a better response. She grabbed her med kit as she walked out of the room.

A few decks away she rang the chime and then keyed in the medical override. Her eyes had difficulty adjusting to the darkened room. Deanna had dropped the light to less than 20%. As her eyes adjusted she saw the small figure of the Counselor seated on the floor in a meditative position, two candles in front of her, the third in her hands. As she approached she could see the woman trembling slightly.

"Counsellor?" she asked. "Deanna? It's Beverly." The Doctor came around in front of Troi and inspected her face, scanning her repeatedly with the tricorder. Her brows furrowed at the readings she was getting. "Deanna?!" she said with more insistence. The seated woman still did not reply. The doctor looked at the candle Troi held in her hands. It was the old fashioned kind, with a tallow and a wick and a live flame, held in a circular glass holder the size of a orange. She hoped the glass was heat resistant as the Counselor was holding it in her bare hands. The wax was melted as if it had been burning for a while. The doctor reached to take the candle and gently eased it out of Troi's hands. Troi whimpered in response. The doctor gasped as she felt how hot the round candle holder was. She immediately set it down, blowing out the flames. "Troi! Deanna! Look at me! How long have you been sitting here like this? Your hands have second degree burns from that candle!" She was pulling out a dermal regenerator as she spoke. Deanna still sat with her eyes closed, pulling slightly away from the doctor but without much effort. "Deanna!" she said again, with more urgency.

This time she got a response. Troi's eyes popped open. She looked at Beverly and the doctor could read the pain and fear on her face. The doctor grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her to the bed. Troi still had full control and ability of her physical body. That was something, the doctor thought to herself.

Sitting on the bed, the small form of the Counselor writhed uncomfortably. "Beverly! I can't stop it. I can't control it. There is too much...too many….I can't keep it away. They're inside me, inside my mind, all the time. It hurts. I can't rest, I can't think. Please stop it. PLEASE." She pleaded as the doctor quickly finished repairing the blistered burns on her hands.

'She hadn't even noticed her hands,' the doctor thought. 'The pain she is talking about isn't physical.'

"What are you feeling, Deanna, what is hurting you?" she asked, desperately trying to find something to grab onto that she could use to help her friend.

"It's too much, Beverly. Too much emotion, too many feelings. All the fear, and anxiety, and joy, and sadness. The grief. It's all in my head and, and, and….." She drifted off. "I have to meditate," Troi replied, trying to get up only to be stopped by Dr Crusher. "No,Beverly! I have to meditate, it's the only way I can keep them out of my head." She tried to get up again.

"No, Deanna. No! Stay here. Let me sedate you, I can help." The doctor was fervently hoping something she had would work. She was worried that even deep sedation wouldn't be enough.

"Please do something." She said it with a finality as Deanna pulled her knees to her chest, as if she was defending her body from something. She rocked every so slightly.

The doctor hit her comm badge and called for two staff members to meet her in Troi's quarters. She needed to get back to sick bay to try to find a different solution. Nothing she had prepared was helping. The two medical staff members arrived within minutes and Dr Crusher explained the situation.

"No one else, Beverly, no other people It's too much. Please!" Deanna said again. Beverly didn't know what she was asking for, or even if Deanna knew what she was asking. As she stepped towards the door, Deanna spoke.

"Beverly! Please, this is important. Do not let Will in here. For gods sake, do not let WIll Riker come in here. He cannot be here."

Perplexed, Beverly replied "Okay, of course Deanna, I'll tell him." She didn't understand but it wasn't an unreasonable request. It wasn't one she was sure she could enforce regarding her commanding officer without good medical cause, but she would try, and she certainly wasn't going to tell Deanna that in her current state..

Hurrying back to sick bay, the doctor was already running through all the options for treatments she thought might work.

In Counselor Troi's quarters, the medical staff continued to monitor the results of the physiologic tests being run as well as administering a slightly higher dose of medication every 15 minutes. The door chimed and one of them replied "come" thinking it was Dr Crusher. Both blue uniformed officers stared in shock when Commander Riker appeared in the doorframe.

"Deanna?" he questioned as he entered the room. He'd read the doctor's most recent reports and didn't like the caveats she had supplied. He appreciated the complexity of the situation, but the wellbeing of the crew was of utmost importance to him, and to the Captain, and, he admitted to himself, he was worried about Deanna as a friend. His eyes slowly adjusted as he took in the scene in front of him. The two medical staff standing by the bed, Deanna pacing the room, eyes frantic, hands holding her head, fluttering to her sides, then back to her head. She was flushed and her eyes were huge in her pale face.

"Deanna!" he said in shock, concern threaded through his voice, with a little fear. The medical staff glanced at each other and back at their commanding officer, who was approaching the Counselor like she was a frightened puppy.

"Dea? Can you hear me? Can I help you? It's me, Will?" he said quietly as he inched forward into the room.

"Will?" That broke Deanna out of her pacing. She stopped dead still. "Will?" she said, her voice panicked. Riker stepped forward and gently touched her shoulders, almost in a squeeze. He gasped when their skin made contact beyond the sleeveless top she was wearing. Her skin was hot to the touch, burning and dry.

Troi stepped back, flinging his hands off of her with some force. "What are you doing here? You can't be here." Her voice was going up in volume and in pitch. "WILL GET OUT!" she screamed. She picked up the object closest to her, which was a small potted plant and threw it towards Riker. He was already backing up at the sound and tone of her voice and shied away just in time as the pottery shattered into a thousand pieces as it hit the wall, spraying white porcelain and dirt over Riker and the room. "I CAN'T CONTROL IT" he heard her yell as he ducked out of the door. He grabbed his head as a throbbing pain shot through it, temporarily blinding him. Eyes tight shut he leaned against the door for a moment and then opened his eyes as the pain subsided slightly. He saw Dr Crusher rushing down the hall.

"Commander? What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here?" The Dr said quickly.

"Yeah, I got that," Riker replied, massaging his temples, slightly sarcastic. "What the hell is going on in there, Doctor?"

"I don't know, Commander. Nothing I've done seems to be helping. She is completely overwhelmed by the emotions of everyone on board and it's starting to take a physical toll on her body." Dr Crushed paused to look at the man in front her her. He did not look right. "Commander, are you okay?"

"Yeah, well, I seem to have a bit of a killer headache, actually. I'm sure it will be fine," he replied, rubbing his temples again. Dr Crusher looked closely at him, squinting her eyes in thought. "I wonder…." she trailed off. "Commander, head directly to sick bay. I'll meet you there in 15 minutes." Seeing the protest about to come out of his mouth, "That's an order, sir," she added. "I'll have Nurse Ogawa escort you." As she spoke she opened the door and gestured to Nurse Ogawa who came immediately.

"Alyssa, escort Commander Riker to sick bay. DIRECTLY to sick bay," she added with a warning glance to Riker. "I'll meet you there in 15 minutes." And she turned into the dark room.

Back in sick bay, Riker sat on one of the biobeds, pretending to be indifferent but actually quite glad to be sitting down. His head was killing him. Nurse Ogawa was completing reports on her PADD. After what seemed like way too long, considering how bad his head hurt, Dr. Crusher appeared back in Sick Bay. Placing her medkit and PADDS down and reviewing a couple things on one of the other consoles, she approached Riker. "Will, what happened in Troi's quarters? What happened to your head?" she asked bluntly.

Puzzled himself, Riker replied, "I went to check on Deanna. I was worried about how she was coping. She was just pacing around the room, so distraught. She looked really awful and she wasn't really responding, like she was only aware of what was going on in her mind. When I finally got through to her she took one look at me and threw at pot at my head and I ran out of there."

Dr. Crusher looked astonished. "She threw a POT AT YOU? Counselor Troi did? On purpose?"

Riker looked slightly chagrined. "It's not the first time she's done that…"he muttered half under his breath. The doctor's eyebrows rose up another 2cm, 'I'll save that info for another time' she thought, then immediately moved on.

"That's it? She didn't say anything? Did the pot hit you? Is that why your head hurts?

"No. Uh, she said 'Will, you can't be here.' She said GET OUT almost screaming, THEN she threw the pot, it hit the wall, and then she screamed I CAN'T CONTROL IT" and i jumped out the door and my head felt like it had been split open."

"Will, you are certain she said that? She said 'I CAN'T CONTROL IT'?" Riker nodded. "And THEN your head started hurting? And you didn't hit it on anything?"

"Yes," Riker replied. "It was like a bolt of lightning when straight through my forehead."

Nurse Ogawa and Dr. Crusher exchanged a glance, slightly perplexed.

"Commander, neither I nor the doctor's assistant Meddall heard Deanna say that," Nurse Ogawa said, looking closely at Riker, as if trying to get her meaning across. "She said "Will, you can't be here," and that was it. Nothing else."

"But she did!" Riker replied. "She was practically yelling it." Riker paled a little as the extra exertion of his argument made his head pound. "Doctor, can't you do something about my head? It's killing me."

The doctor was already flipping open her tricorder. She hit some buttons and scanned again. Then her eyebrows raised, a bit of a surprised look on her face. Nurse Ogawa moved to her side to look at the tricorder. Riker, sitting with his eyes closed, didn't notice their reactions.

"Alyssa, let's try a dose of ASI transmitter. It won't hurt and it will be interesting to see if there is a response." Riker opened his eyes at that, but didn't bother trying to understand their medical-speak. Dr. Crusher put the hypospray to his neck and almost immediately his headache resolved and a smile spread across his face.

"Doc, you're a miracle worker." He practically hopped off the biobed.

"Not so fast, Commander," the doctor ordered, rescanning him with her tricorder. With a satisfied expression on her face, she showed Nurse Ogawa the repeated results. She nodded in response. "Commander, Captain Picard is on his way down here for a report on the medical status of his crew. I suggest you stay." Riker made his way slowly back to where the doctor was standing but didn't return to his previous seat.

When the Captain arrived, the three officers moved into the Doctor's smaller office. Responding to the Captain's query, she assured him the vast majority of the crew, including the telepaths, were doing wonderfully, with no adverse effects after almost 6 hours within the anomaly. "Captain, we need to discuss Counselor Troi," the doctor said with a sigh. "Nothing I have been able to come up with is helping. She is almost completely overwhelmed by the emotions of the crew. The injections of Anti-Sero-Ion transmitters that I have been giving the telepaths, and just used on Commander Riker, are barely touching her. A traditional sedative masks the sensation of her empathy but does nothing for the physical reaction…"

At this, the Captain interrupted her. "Doctor, explain. What do you mean by sensation versus physical reaction? And why is Commander Riker involved?" The Captain felt somehow he already knew the answer to his last question, but didn't have any concrete information to fall back on.

"Empathy," the doctor answered, "is like telepathy in that sensations normally considered non-communicative in humans, are communicated in other species. In Telepathy, this happens 100% in the brain, the cerebral cortex. It is all mental. The other systems of the body - the circulation, the temperature, digestion, vision, are not affected. In empathy, it is partly mental. A great portion happens in the cerebral cortex, but just as emotions do not occur solely in the brain, neither does empathy. When someone is afraid, or has a shock, their blood pressure goes up, their pupils dilate, their heart rate increases, their temperature even increases slightly. When someone is grieving, digestion slows or temperature drops by a tiny fraction. When someone is angry, blood pressure may rise. Empaths, in a way, require even more control over their abilities because they affect multiple systems at one time. Counselor Troi is an incredibly powerful empath with exquisite control over her abilities. She can block a single person's emotions in a room of emotional people and conversely block an entire crowd of people and sense only a single individual. The problem here, is that Counselor Troi currently has no ability to control her ability to feel the emotions of others right now. The combined effect is raising her blood pressure. She's getting more and more tachycardic. Her temperature has risen 1.8 degrees in 6 hours." The doctor paused, seeing if the officers in front of her would grasp what she was getting at before she had to tell them herself. "With telepaths, lack of control of their abilities leads to the cerebral cortex becoming overwhelmed and insanity may result, leaving the body otherwise healthy. In empaths, inability to control the emotions of others is more physically devastating. Left completely unchecked, it will simply drive Deanna's body into multi-system organ failure."

A bit stunned, neither officer had ever fully grasped the full continuum of powers that their colleague controlled on a daily basis. It made her day to day activities and her vocation equally as daunting and they marvelled in her success.

The Captain spoke, "Surely Doctor, there is SOMETHING more you can do?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "I have a whole list of possible remedies to try. Hopefully some in combination will be successful enough to work. There is hardly any research on this topic. Half-Betazoid empaths are rare enough, much less discuss on how to deal with one that has no control. It's like baking a recipe when you are missing half the ingredients. Borrow from this one, replace this, leave this out. It's trial and error. We simply don't have enough time."

The doctor continued her lecture, pivoting to a different topic. "Sero-Ion transmitters are the tiny particles used in telepathy, one that we can measure with fairly good accuracy. Most telepaths have levels from 500-700. The most powerful telepaths top out at about 850. Empaths also have this neurotransmitter, but at much lower levels. The average empath has levels around 200-300." She paused to let this sink in. "Counselor Troi's levels of Sero-Ions are usually around 350." She paused again. "Humans have a level between 1 and 4."

"Basically incapable of any form of telepathy," the Captain summarized. The doctor nodded. Then she turned Riker.

"Commander, when you arrived here with the headache this evening, we used the same tricorder that we had used on Counselor Troi earlier. It was already programmed to detect Sero-Ion transmitter levels. When I scanned you, your Sero-Ion Transmitter level was 54."

"54?" he repeated.

"But that doesn't make any sense, doctor," the Captain added. "Perhaps it was a leftover reading or a failure to delete previous data?"

The doctor shook her head. "We deleted and repeated that test 3 times. It was over 50 every single time. And then when we administered the Anti-Sero-Ion transmitters, your headache resolved immediately. And the level dropped to 3."

"Doctor, how can this be?" the Captain asked.

"Commander?" the doctor queried. "Would you like to give us a theory on what is going on?"

Stunned, and not quite sure how to respond, Riker replied "I...um...well…"

Before he could complete his thought, the Captain interrupted again. "Commander," he said to Riker. "Is the Doctor trying to tell me that my human First Officer and my Half-Betazoid Counselor and Advisor have had a telepathic connection while on my ship for over 3 years?" The Captain was demanding in his request. There would be no avoidance.

"Well, yes. I mean No. I mean, I'm not sure, sir," Riker replied, appearing flustered and very out of character for himself. "You know, Sir," he began slowly, "that Deanna Troi and I had met prior to being stationed on the Enterprise together." He looked at his Captain for agreement.

"Yes, and?" the Captain replied impatiently.

"Troi and I met on Betazed, while I was on command there. We had an, uh, intimate relationship. We became very close. At the time, we developed some sort of bond, a connection. It wasn't exactly telepathic and it wasn't exactly empathic. Being a stranger to Betazed and a newcomer to space travel, I assumed this was a common experience on that planet. I later found that it was actually quite rare. When later we uh, parted ways, I assumed the connection was broken. I could no longer sense her. At least that was what I had always thought. When we saw each other again on the Enterprise, I felt something familiar. And in the time since then I have occasionally felt that I know her. Like truly KNOW what she thinks or feels. I attributed it to how when you know someone really well, like a family member, you know how they will react. I never thought….I mean… the connection was broken. It was impossible to begin with, Deanna and I having that bond, much less to have it persevere over such time and distance." He finished speaking and Riker's glance faded off into the corner of the room, as if looking at something that wasn't there, or thinking about something deeply.

"Will," Dr. Crusher said, interrupting his thoughts, "is it possible that the connection wasn't broken? That in fact it always remained intact?"

Riker shook his head. "I don't see how. I haven't been aware. I suppose….but….I don't think so, Riker replied.

"Remember Commander, no one else heard Counselor Troi speak to you back in her quarters. She WAS communicating with you… Telepathically…. And you heard her. And it gave you a tremendous headache," Dr Crusher tried to urge him along, hoping that he would come to the same conclusion she had. It was the only one that made sense.

"She said she couldn't control it!" Riker said with shock, appearing slightly awed. "She couldn't control it! She didn't mean the emotions of the crew on her mind, she meant the connection. The one between us"

"I think she did, Commander," Dr. Crusher said. "I think the bond, or connection, or whatever the hell you call it, was never broken. I think Counselor Troi was simply controlling it absolutely, in a way that you were no longer aware of it. When she lost her ability to control it, she also lost the ability to keep you from sensing the bond and from accessing her mind. The sensations she was feeling were communicated directly to you. THAT why she was so insistent that you stay away. She didn't want you exposed to or in any contact with all the feedback she's getting from the crew of the Enterprise. She must've known this would happen."

Riker massaged his temples. He didn't really have a headache any more, just a dull, foggy sensation, like he needed a big cup of coffee. "That headache? That pain? Is that what Deanna is experiencing now? Is that what it feels like to her?" His face was couched in worry. He looked at the doctor, a pleading look in his eyes, as if begging for better news.

"I'm not sure, Will," said the doctor honestly. I think to a certain extent yes. But we also have to consider that your physiology is set up to be empathic. That on its own could have caused the headache."

Riker sighed. "Honestly doctor, that was awful. If she's having to deal with that for three days?... No wonder people go insane in here…". He leaned his head forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"So what are we going to do about Counselor Troi? We can't just leave her how she is now?"

"No," the doctor replied, "We can't. I think…" She was cut off my the sound of chirp coming from her badge. It was one of the medical staff assigned to Troi's quarters.

"Doctor, Counselor Troi's vital sign are starting to fluctuate," the young doctor said. "Her heart rate is consistently over 100 now, and her temperature has gone up 0.8 degrees in the last hour alone. The medications we have given have been mostly ineffective."

"Alright," Doctor Crusher replied, "Time to pull out the big guns. Give her 50mg of Ketalamine and have her transported to Sickbay. We're going to need to sedate her at such a level that remaining in her quarters is no longer an option." She signed off with the medical team and starting typing and calculating on a computer. She barely glanced at the Captain. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have to finish this quickly."

As the two officers headed out of her office, she spoke again "And Will, come by first thing in the morning so we can run some tests on you. Or sooner if that headache comes back." He nodded at her in response but she was already focused on her PADDs and assumed he would obey her command.


	3. Chapter 3

Back in his office, Picard sat staring at the aquarium in his wall. A chime rang, alerting him that someone was outside the door.

"Come," he ordered.

LaForge and Data entered the room.

"Sir," said LaForge.

"Commander, brief me on the status of the ships function. How are her systems handling this energy field?" the Captain asked.

Data answered "As expected, sir. No major surprises and necessary systems are working at full capacity."

"Good," the captain replied briskly. "How much longer until we are through this anomaly at current speed?"

"52 hours, 17 minutes," the android replied.

"Time has become of utmost importance. Counselor Troi has responded very poorly to the effects of this anomaly and Dr Crusher has not been able to mitigate the crisis. Her life may be in danger. We need to get this ship through the energy field now. As soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," LaForge replied. "I'll reroute power to the engines, that should get us to a higher warp. It might not be much but we can shave a few hours off this trip at least."

"Make it so," Picard replied.

"Maybe...MAYBE…" LaForge responded, "we can even modify the shields to help decrease the effect. I'll talk to the medical staff and see if they have any information on the type of interference they're getting. Maybe we can alter the shields."

"Good. Do it. I'm afraid Deanna may need all the help we can give her," the Captain replied, exchanging a worried look with his engineer.

Back in the sick bay, Troi lay on one of the biobeds. He black hair messy spread out behind her head. Her eyes were closed but her rest appeared anything but peaceful. A monitor flashed silently on her temple while medical scanners lay over her body constantly running tests of her condition. Her cheeks were flushed.

"Any change?" Crusher asked the nurse watching the monitors, for what must have been the 20th time.

The nurse shook her head. "Her heart rate is still consistently between 130 and 140. Temperature is at 40.8C. It seems to have stopped rising at such a fast rate though. Maybe the medications have started to have some effect?" She asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," Crusher replied dubiously. "More likely, I'm afraid, her body just can't keep up the response for such a sustained amount of time. You're right though, the last combo seems to have had the best response, though negligible. Let's try and increase the dose. Plus an additional dose of antipyretic and something to address the sympathetic nervous system."

The nurse tapped the computer screen several times and offered it to the doctor for approval. "Yes, good. Let me know if anything changes. Or doesn't change." She sighed. "Just update me in 10 minutes," she replied. The doctor returned to her office, engrossed in her reading, her mind already addressing the next problem.

The next morning in the conference room, the senior staff gathered to discuss the progress.

"A little over 40 hours to go at this current speed," the engineer was saying. We've rerouted everything we can to the shields and engines. We're working on adapting the shields per Dr Crushers information and were hoping that might have some effect," he went on. LaForge was thinking that you didn't need to be an empath to feel the anxiety and worry in the room.

"What is Troi's condition, Doctor?" the captain asked.

"About the same, unfortunately. Her symptoms have stopped getting worse, but her heart rate is still incredibly high and she's still very, very febrile. If we can hold steady, there is hope we can avoid multi organ failure before exiting the anomaly. However, there is no real way to predict how long her body can keep this up."

"And her mind?" Asked the Captain. He didn't want to ask the question for fear of the answer, but should the answer be bad, he needed to be prepared, both professionally and personally.

"No way of knowing right now," the red haired doctor replied, shaking her head. "She's so sedated the brain scans show minimal response. This is not unexpected and is similar to what we'd expect in the other telepaths. Hopefully it's protective."

"I see," the Captain replied. "Any additional suggestions are welcome. Dismissed." He sat back down and turned his eyes, if not his kind, to the padd in front of him. The distraction provided no relief however. He was worried for his friend, and his crew, and himself. How would THEY cope if their Counselor didn't recover?

"Dr Crusher? A moment?" Riker called as the senior staff scattered to their posts.

"Yes, commander?" the doctor replied. "How's your head?"

"It's fine. Thanks," he replied, a bit rushed. "Would I be able to visit Deanna? In sick bay? Or would that be...inadvisable?"

"No, Commander, no visitors. Not even close friends. ESPECIALLY close friends." She looked at her commanding officer with an expression that said Don't make me say it out Loud.

"So…" he stuttered.

She cut him off. "No, Will. I know you're worried. We all are, but you understand why. I absolutely cannot allow it. Not until we get a better hold of it."

"But, Beverly", he protested, "if the worst were to happen...if….if…." he faltered. "I don't want her be alone," he finished lamely.

The doctor hung her head and rubbed her temples. She sighed heavily. "I know. I know,"

She murmured. She grabbed Riker's upper arm and gave it a squeeze. "If it comes to that…" she didn't go on. "As soon as there is any change or improvement, I'll let you know."

Riker gave her a slight nod of the head and she hurried down the corridor at a brisk walk.

In sick bay, the doctor stood in front of a monitor, still wearing the clothes from the day before. A couple staff members moved purposefully through the area. Counselor Troi remained on the biobed, still with messy hair behind her, pale skin, circles starting to form under her eyes in her quiet, fine-boned face. The Captain store into the room with purpose, then halted, as if wondering if he should be there at all. They had been surrounded by the energy field for 56 hours and almost 30 minutes.

The doctor looked up. "Captain, can I help you?" She asked, barely taking her eyes from the screen.

"I wanted to get an update on Troi's condition," he said, a bit hesitantly considering he was a man in command of a starship. He glanced over at the form on the bed. He was always a bit uncomfortable in sickbay, with so many machines that needed to be interpreted for him and so many emotions so close to the surface.

The doctor, understanding the source of his awkwardness and that the visit was not solely administrative, gestured for him to come closer to the bed.

"So far she's hanging in there. There's been no major changes. She is still very, very sick but she's not getting worse. We have about 4 hours left in this thing. It's still too soon to say for sure but if she can just hang on, just a little longer….." The doctor stopped speaking at stared again at the monitor, as if she could make it change readings with her kind. She sighed heavily and then looked back at the doctor. "Her fever is still over 40 degrees and her heart rate is still very fast. Luckily she is young and healthy and her body seems to be compensating. "When she wakes up from this," the doctor checked her words given the precarious position Troi was still in, then pushed forward, the other options being too awful to say out loud, "she's going to feel like she's been run over by a shuttle craft. She'll have a hard time with the time it will take."

"I hope, Doctor, that that is the least of our worries," the Captain replied. "In 4 hours, what is the plan to bring the affected staff back?"

"Those in stasis will come out as soon as we are clear, those on medications will have a brief taper of the medications, as they are able to tolerate it. I don't anticipate a problem and it should be able to be done over 12 hours, more or less," the doctor replied.

"And Deanna?" The Captain asked?

The doctor grimaced slightly. "Once we are clear, we will see how her vitals respond. Best case scenario things improve and we can taper off the medications as she tolerates as well, though I think a lot more slowly considering."

The Captain nodded. "Very well. I think, if it is alright with you doctor, that I might sit with Counselor Troi for a while." He looked at her for approval.

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"I understand Riker also asked about visiting but you told him no?" The Captain questioned.

"Yes. And I did," the Doctor replied. "HE," she emphasized, "is not the Captain. And also, I don't understand the relationship between him and Counselor Troi, or this 'connection' they have, and I don't want to take any chances."

The captain nodded grimly.

"And you, Doctor? Are you taking care of yourself? It appears, if I may comment, that you have not gone home overnight?" He raised his eyebrows at her with a look that both questioned and commanded an answer. When she didn't reply immediately he went on, "Beverly, it is imperative you take care of yourself. It appears the transition out is going to be as difficult as the transition in and I want my doctor in good health."

"Is that an order, sir?" She asked.

"Do I need to make it one?" He asked back, pointedly.

She sighed. "I'm just going to take a nap in my office. I want to be close, just in case."

The Captain nodded at her, knowing that would probably be as good a response as I would get, and moved towards the bed, taking a seat in a chair in the corner. The doctor nodded back and moved toward her office.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor woke with a start, raising her head from the desk, her heart pounding. At the door of her office stood Nurse Ogawa. "Doctor, we've just exited the anomaly. We thought you would want to know." Dr Crusher stood, shaking the cobwebs from her mind.

"Update me. Any changes?" She asked briskly, annoyed at herself for falling asleep at her desk, though that few hours had been the only sleep

She's gotten in the last two days.

"No, sir," Nurse Ogawa replied. "We've started withdrawing the stasis from the affected crew members, per protocol, and everything is going as expected. Some of the others have tolerated the exit very well and are looing forward to the medication taper. We wanted to wait for you to get started."

"And Troi?" she asked anxiously.

"No change," the nurse replied. "But no worsening of her vital signs. It's probably too soon to see any effect, according to what you presented yesterday."

"Okay. Good." The Doctor began gathering her thoughts and prioritizing her actions and deciding what to delegate.

She assigned a team to manage each of the patients, the ones coming out of stasis and the ones on medication, leaving herself to manage Troi herself. Reviewing the past few hours of data, she took a deep breath. It wasn't horrible. Her heart rate and blood pressure were high but stable. Her core temperature is was also still high but had dampened a little after the medications. They had been out of the anomaly for less than an hour. Temperature drop of 0.2 degrees and Heart rate down from 138 to 135. To small to say if it was a trend but promising. As soon as they saw a clear trend toward normal they could think about withdrawaling some of the medications.

Several hours later she was pleased so see a distinct trend back toward normal. She left Sick Bay leaving her team with specific instructions and headed to her quarters for a quick change of clothes. She rounded a corner in the corridor and almost ran into the Captain.

"Doctor!" He said surprisingly. "I was just coming to see you." He glanced around, making sure the area was private enough. "Anything to update?"

"Yes," she replied excitedly. "Deanna's has a very good response. We're moving slowly towards normal and haven't had any hiccups yet. She's not totally out of danger but we are all optimistic."

The Captain felt a weight off of his shoulders that he didn't know he was carrying. He rarely realizes how often and to what degree he relied on his Counselor. The worry for her was intense. "Excellent. Keep me informed."

Four hours later, pleased with the progress being made, the doctor again wrapped up her work, debriefed with the medical team and hurried out the door of Sick Bay. This time though, she carried a small medkit, and instead of heading to her own quarters, she heading towards Riker's.

Commander Riker responded to the chime, inviting in the doctor.

"Hi Doctor," Riker said cheerfully. What can I help you with?"

"Hi Commander. Thanks for letting me meet you here, instead of in sick bay," Dr Crusher replied, opening the medkit with brisk efficiency. She flipped open a medical tricorder and started scanning the man in front of her. "How are you feeling? Any headaches? Dizziness?"

"No, nothing," Riker replied. "I feel fine."

"Nothing out of the ordinary at all?" The doctor pressed.

"No, not at all," Riker stated again. "What exactly are you looking for? Or hoping for?"

"Hoping for?" Doctor Crusher asked. "I'm hoping for nothing. But I am checking all your neurotransmitter levels. Now that we are past that anomaly, everyone's levels are returning to their baseline. I wanted to check to see if yours also, will return to baseline, whatever that may be." The doctor gave him a knowing look.

"And?" He asked, "what does it show?"

"Everything just as it's expected. Your levels are right where they should be for an ordinary human," the doctor replied.

"Will..." she began. "Would you be willing to complete a few more tests for me? In sick bay. With Deanna? After she recovers, of course." The doctor asked hesitantly.

Commander Riker looked at her with eyes slightly squinted. "Are these medically necessary tests, Beverly? Or tests to satisfy your curiousity?"

A bit sheepish, as if she knew she'd been caught, the doctor replied "Well, they would help me better care for you, and Deanna, and possible future patients, but no. They are not medically required."

"I am not going to be your guinea pig, Beverly!" He stated firmly. Not quite angry but not far from it. "And Deanna? There is no way she'd stand for that and you know it!"

"But Will! You have to understand! This kind of thing has never been documented before. It's technically impossible! For a human to have a telepathic, a TWO WAY telepathic relationship with a person who is not even a telepathic herself? How does it work? How did it happen? We may never know if we don't take this opportunity now. Both you and Deanna are telepathic blank slates, but only for the next few hours! It's our only chance!" Beverly gave him and imploring look.

Riker stood like stone in front of her. "And yet here we are" he said with a note of finality that no one would question. "Unless there are any other medically required tests or interventions, I think we are done here?"

"Yes, of course commander," the doctor replied. She didn't want to push it. She was already on the edge of officer impudence, if not outright impropriety. She put away the medkit quickly and made her way to the door.

"Doctor?" Riker asked quickly, standing up and turning back toward her. He just had a thought that chilled him to the bone. "Beverly?" He started again. "Are you going to send all this in a report to Starfleet? Are we going to have multiple science officers and commanders breathing down our necks requiring explanations and ordering us to undergo experiments to satisfy some deranged quest for knowledge?"

"Are you asking me to falsify medical records, Commander?" She asked prickily, still a little defensive over how her suggestion was received.

Riker groaned in his head. This took a bad turn quickly.

"Beverly, look, off the record okay? I would never ask you to lie, or be dishonest, either as your commanding officer or your friend. I just ask that you be judicious and perhaps cautious? as you submit all these reports. Honestly, we're only here because of decisions, probably bad decisions, I made years ago. I don't want anyone, especially Deanna, to suffer any more than they already have."

The doctors eyes softened as she looked at the man. Oh, she wanted to know the backstory of her two friends even more than ever. What was his bad decision? To have Whatever they had? To leave her? His wish to NOT have whatever relationship they had? "Of course, Will. I'll be truthful and vague as possible. After all, technically we have no proof of anything other than one strange reading on your initial medical scan that day. It may come back to haunt us, like decisions do, but I won't do any editorializing in the official report." She gave him a small smile.

He nodded his consent. "Let me know as soon as she's up for visitors. We have some things to...discuss," He ended lamely.

"I imagine so," the doctor murmered. "She should be discharged in a day or so. I'll keep you updated."

Back in sick bay, Dr Crusher stood absorbed in her work. Glancing up now and again to watch Troi, who was still lying on the bed with her eyes closed, either sleeping or unconscious. The next time she glanced up, she was surprised to see Deanna's eyes wide open, watching her.

"Deanna! You're awake!" She said, hurrying to the bedside. Deanna's forehead creased and eyes closed as she made an effort to move and sit up, a move which she quickly abandoned.

"Beverly..." Troi said. It was part question, part statement.

Crusher was instantly relieved. Her mind was at least partially intact. "Don't move. Don't try to sit up. Just lie there." The doctor said it with kindness, but with a steely ring to it that no one would question.

"I feel awful," Troi said simply, acquiescing to the order to lie still.

"I'm not surprised," the doctor replied. "Your body's been running the equivalent of a marathon for about 5 days straight now. It's going to need some time to recover." She paused, trying to evaluate the wisdom of pushing further now or waiting. "How much do you remember?"

The small woman on the bed furrowed her brow, creasing her eyes slightly yet again. "Not much. It's all very vague and very unpleasant. It was very, very hot." She paused as she tried to organize what she knew into coherent thought. "I remember being in my quarters, and having a horrible headache and a fever. I remember talking to..." unsure of how much she should share with the doctor, or how much the doctor knew, she paused... "someone, but not after that. I remember wanting someone to help, to stop it, but nothing was working." She paused again. "Then nothing. I don't remember anything after that. I don't remember coming here. How long have I been here?" the woman asked fearfully. She was beginning to panic. She again tried to sit up, to move her body in space, and again she fell back onto the bed, her body not cooperating with the demands of her mind. She gave the doctor a pleading look. "What's happened?"

"Deanna," the doctor replied, placing her hand on her patient's shoulder. "Relax, just wait a moment." You didn't need to be an empath to feel the rising anxiety in the small woman. "Everything is going to be fine. It's all getting better." As Deanna relaxed a bit, closing her eyes with a furrowed brow, the doctor went on "We brought you here three days ago."

"Three days!..." Troi interrupted. Dr Crusher held up her hand gesturing in a wait motion.

"All the interventions we tried while we were in the anomaly...none of them worked, at least not well. As soon as we realized how serious things were getting we had you transferred here for complete sedation and higher doses of medications." She paused a moment, trying to gauge if the Counselor understood the seriousness of the situation. "Very high doses. Deanna...You were very ill. Very, very ill. Your body was shutting down. We did everything we could."

"Beverly, what are you saying?" the Counselor asked, feeling her anxiety spike again.

"I'm say, Dee, you were very sick and we all did all we could, Geordi even modified the shields, but we don't know what the long term effects will be. So far your physiology appears to be recovering very well. I was worried about brain damage given the long-standing fever, but that seems fine. How is your empathy? Can you sense anything?"

Deanna thought about that, a small frown on her face. She focused with her mind. Normally clear senses felt foggy, muddy, like blurry vision of the mind. "It's there, but it's not normal. I can't get a handle on it. Like it slips out of my grasp." She paused, focusing. This time she specifically tried to reach Will. She could tell he was there, but nothing more. She let out a little sigh of effort and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she sought after the doctor's face. She found it, the doctor's blue eyes looking down at her with concern.

"It's okay, Deanna. We have you on medication still. I didn't want to stop all of the telepathy-blocking agents at once until I knew how you were reacting. We've started a taper. Your senses should, if everything goes as planned, come back over the next two days. It's a good sign, Deanna. Everything is looking good, but you, and knowing you, I know what this is going to mean, you are going to need to be patient."

Deanna sighed and closed her eyes. She took in what Beverly said, but wasn't of a mind to process it or argue. Everything hurt, she was nauseous, her head pounded every time she tried to move. She'd just lay here and wait for things to get better. She tried again half heartedly to feel for Will but again got the feeling she was trying to swim through a thick fog with nothing to hold on to or orient herself. She gave us and soon slipped into a light an restless sleep.

The doctor, still concerned, continues to watch her friend, for her own benefit, then stepped away back to her work.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, the Senior Staff gathered for a meeting to discuss the progress being made en route to their next mission. At the end of the discussion of logistics and reports on expectations, the Captain asked for a report on Troi's condition.

"She's doing well," the doctor answered. "Everything is retuning to baseline at a reasonable, of not quick, pace. Her vital signs have been almost normal and she assured me her empathic senses are back to her baseline. All tests seem to confirm this. She's still quite debilitated and needs time to recover physically but I'm not concerned. And she's started to complain profusely about Sick Bay, which I am taking as a good sign, knowing Deanna."

"Excellent," the captain nodded, so very relieved.

"Is she up for visitors?" Commander Riker interjected.

"She should be, just please alert the staff before coming just in case," the Doctor replied.

The Captain nodded again. "Dismissed."

The staff stood to leave. As they did so, Dr Crusher said, "Commander Riker, can I ask you to stop by my office later today?"

"Of course, Doctor," he replied. As he hurried out towards Engineering he approached the doctor, "anything I need to worry about, Doctor?" He asked in a low voice.

"No, not at all," the doctor replied. She looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. "Now that Troi has her senses under full control and at normal levels, I wanted to complete one more assessment to make sure your brain had no lingering negative effects." Sensing his skepticism she went on, "just for assurances, I don't want to miss something that could potentially cause a problem in the future."

Not at all reassured by this but knowing he had no grounds for refusal, the commander quickly agreed to stop by later and then hurried on.

A couple of hours later in Sick Bay, Dr Crusher stood at the side of Trou's bed, thoroughly exasperated. Surprisingly, Deanna's first visitor had not been Commander Riker, nor the Captain, but was Commander Data, who stood at the side of her bed trying to convince the Counselor.

"Counselor Troi," He started patiently, as always, "D. Crusher has explained her rationale for having you stay in Sick Bay. I think that you should listen to her."

The dark haired woman, slightly pale and resting on the bed with the head elevated, replied "Yes Data, I know. I also know there is no reason why I can't recuperate in my own quarters. Even Dr Crusher said herself 'there is no acute medical need.' for me to be here." She looked at the Doctor with a stubborn look in her eye.

Sighing at having this exact argument for the third time that day, she relented. "Fine. If you think you are able to recuperate in your quarters where there is no one to help you, there are some clothes on the table on the side of the room. Put them on BY YOURSELF and meet me in my office and we will talk about discharge." She gave the Counselor a pointed glance. 'Let her get herself out of this one,' she thought. To Data she said "Do NOT help her...And DON'T let her fall." The doctor turned on her heel and walked to her office, a smirk on her face that no one else could see.

Counselor Troi sighed a satisfied smile and sat up. She swayed slightly on the bed and stopped, as Data stood by her side, looking as apprehensive as an Android could. Troi slowly moved her legs to the side of the bed and paused again. The ground seemed an awful long way away. She felt a little lightheaded and paused again. She thought for a moment and then looked at Data.

"I think, Counselor, is that this is what the doctor meant when she said not to help you," he said, eyebrows raised as if looking for approval.

The Counselor huffed slightly and slid down the side of the bed, only to have her legs buckle as she tried to stand. Data quickly reached out and steadied her, a firm grip on her arm keeping her from hitting the floor. "And that, Counselor, is what she meant when she said not to let you fall. I suggest you sit back down." He said it in a way that she knew she couldn't argue.

"Data, you're the worst. And the best." She said as she settled back down but kept her legs hanging off the side of the bed. The android gave her a quizzical look but didn't reply.

Several minutes later, Dr Crusher returned, eyebrows raised at Deanna still sitting at the side of the bed. "I've decided to stay for the time being," she said haughtily, daring Beverly to comment.

"I'm glad to hear it," the doctor replied, but gave Data another smirk as she passed behind Deanna.

Coming around to look at her patient, she said, not without compassion, "Deanna, I know you hate being here but trust me on this one. Just give it a little time and you'll be better faster. Trust the medical establishment for once."

"It doesn't appear that I have much choice," the Counselor replied bitterly.

They were interrupted by one of the medical staff calling for Dr Crusher. They all looked towards the other room and saw Commmander Riker had entered the Sick Bay. Dr Crusher nodded to him and he disappeared into her office.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dr Crusher watched Troi for any reaction. She was normally one who guarded her emotions closely, at least when she wanted to. She didn't think that the Counselor remembered any of the incident in her quarters, but she wasn't sure. She also couldn't tell if there was a change in what the Counselor normally sensed when it came to Will Riker. Did she still have control of their link? WAS there a link that still existed? Was she again keeping Will unaware? She had so many questions. Perhaps her new exam of Will would be enlightening.

"One or two more days, Counselor. At most," the Doctor said. "Data, perhaps you would assist the Counselor in a lap around the room?"

"I think, Doctor, that I would like to rest right now. I will walk in a little bit, if Data can wait?" She looked questioningly at him.

"Yes, of course, Counselor. I will sit and wait with you, if you do not mind my company." Data looked at her expectantly.

Touched at his concern, she replied "Thank you, Data, that would be nice."

She laid down on the bed, on her back, with her eyes closed. A careful medical exam would have revealed that she was not actually sleeping, but to her visitor and the medical staff, she appeared to be dozing.

Physically fatigued, but not at all sleepy, Deanna Troi used the peaceful moments for some careful introspection. She could sense Will. It was when that came back to her that she was assured that whatever had happened to her was indeed temporary. She carefully reached out with her mind to try and sense Will Riker. It was a delicate balance of sensing him fully without him knowing it. It took careful control and, in her current condition, full concentration. She had done this a few times in the past several years, very infrequently, and only when her anxiety about his condition got the best of her. Normally she chose not to seek him out, not to utilize their connection, especially on a personal level. She felt from him a general sense of concern partially for her and partially for the crew in general, otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. She wasn't sure, but thought that he had escaped this debacle unscathed. Surely Dr Crusher would have mentioned something to her. She still wondered if she had made the right choice in not telling Will or the doctor about their bond, and her possible loss of control over it. She thought Will's human DNA would have protected him, even without her controlling the link. His use of it had been dormant for so long she didn't think he had any notion of its existence, and certainly no independent use of it. She did have some vague sense or memory of him when she thought about the past week but it was too non-specific and her mind too addled by the medications to make sense of it. It must be the lingering effects of the medications and the re-emergence of all her telepathy. Coming from a blank slate, it made sense that he would feature more prominently than the others. She was regretting not speaking to Will about their connection before this. Still hurt and defensive about the way they had parted, she had preferred to sweep it under the rug, convinced a mostly dormant connection would always be able to be managed by her. She had moved on, and she wished her mind and body had as well. Even as she thought this, in her deepest heart she knew the truth. The Imzadi bond she felt with this man was not temporary. There was no running away from it, no ignoring it. She thought back to the feeling of terror she had felt when she had lost her sense in the encounter with the two dimensional beings. She hadn't realized how connected she still was to her Imzadi until she could no longer sense him at all. The feeling of isolation from him that she usually felt, enforced by her own mind and usually tempered by the close proximity of the rest of the crew, was terrifying without that buffer to distract her. Since then she'd had a new sense of the importance of that connection, though she still had no idea how to manage it. "As long as he remained unaware," she thought, "there is still time to resolve this." Even as she thought this, she knew in her heart and mind that it wasn't an answer. Resolve how? Continue the status quo? Full disclosure? There was no good answer. She had done some research into what happened when Imzadi bonds were broken, but there really wasn't any. One or two case reports existed where Imzadi had chosen to part ways, but for the most part the research didn't exist because it didn't happen. As far as Imzadi bonds between partner who were not the same species and one only partially Betazoid? The medical research would have a field day, if they knew, she though. As she played all this through in her mind, the monitors beeped an increase in her heart rate, bringing Nurse Ogawa to her bedside.

In Dr Crushers office, Riker submitted silently to a quick exam. He answered negatively to the doctors multiple questions, essentially asking the same thing in multiple different ways.

"No, I feel fine. No headaches. No dizziness. Nothing out of the ordinary. No sense of...anything really." A slight pause before the final answer went unnoticed by the Doctor, who was focused on the results.

"Anything to report, Doctor?" He asked.

"No," she replied. "Not really. Your neurotransmitter levels are a touch higher than they were yesterday, on the borderline of normal for a human. Without any other symptoms to go on, there isn't any else to report on. You're free to do, Commander. Case closed. But please do report any new strange symptoms to me."

"Yes, of course, Doctor," he replied. He hadn't been 100% truthful in his answers. He did feel something out of the ordinary, but it was something he couldn't place, something he couldn't identify. It was almost lightheadedness, but not. It wasn't pain. It was as if he SHOULD know something but was missing it, similar to Deja Vu. As he didn't know how to explain it, he didn't mention it.

He looked out the office window, watched Deanna resting on the bed. He knew she wasn't sleeping, but wasn't sure how he knew it.

"Will..." Doctor Crusher started. "Are you going to talk to her? You sh—-"

Riker cut her off. "I know. I will. But I don't want to have the conversation here, in Sick Bay, surrounded by tricorders and medical staff. I think the conversation we need to have needs to be done in private." He looked chagrined at the thought.

The doctor nodded, "Of course."

He looked again out the window, seeing Nurse Ogawa talking to Deanna, now with her eyes open.

He sighed heavily, lost in thought. He was still perplexed by the experience. He remembered the sensation of telepathy he had shared with Deanna years ago. The feeling of vertigo, of almost being drunk, not quite within oneself because you were within another person, was not something he had ever replicated. It was very different than what he had felt that night in Deanna quarters. He shuddered just thinking about the pain and the oppressive feeling that it was. Yet the similar lingering effect was still there, almost like a hangover. He thought about how he used to initiate communication, but was too afraid to try, afraid that he would succeed. He thought Dr Crusher was right, that there was still some link between him and Deanna that existed, though he didn't understand in what format. They didn't have the ease of each other's minds the way they used to, back on Betazed, when they were "intimate." His own brain paused in its bought, trying to seek the right term. Intimate yes, physically, and emotionally, but also mentally. The comfort of "knowing" the other person without having to filter it through the other senses and distractions of the universe. Yes, he was sure, the bond was still there. It explained a lot of things that he'd previously wondered about but had written off to coincidence. The time he had turned around without thinking in Ten Forward only to see the door open and her walk in. The times he heard the turbo lift doors open on the bridge and knew it was her without looking. The look she had given him when she'd lost her sense in the conference room. Like she was trying desperately to communicate with him but was as unsuccessful as an ordinary human. The time he'd woken up suddenly out of breath in the middle of the night, only to find out Troi had been awoken by a patient in crisis at the same exact time. And countless other small things he'd never thought twice about, suddenly falling into place. He wasn't so sure that Deanna knew it know. Surely she would not have kept such a thing a secret? He didn't know much about Imzadi bonds. He had assumed, without really considering the consequences, that it would cease to exist when the relationship ceased to exist. He couldn't remember Deanna ever telling him that though. She must know more about it. She would have told him if this wasn't the case, right?

"Commander?" The doctor asked with concern, wondering why he was still standing in her office watching Troi.

"Yes, fine. I'm fine. Sorry," he rushed. "I'll check in with you later. Please inform me of any unexpected changes," her replied, all business again. He glanced over at Troi as he left the office, catching her eye. He almost tripped over his own feet. It felt like a buzzer had gone off in his mind. In his haste to not crash into something on his way out, he didn't notice the involuntary shake and shiver that Deanna experienced as well. Nurse Ogawa did however, and noticing Troi's heart rate spike and her color drop, she squinted her eyes suspiciously.

"Deanna?" She asked curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Hmmmm?" Troi replied distractedly. Then louder, pulling herself together "Yes, fine, just a strange chill. Probably still adjusting." She rubbed her arms to convince Alyssa she meant it. The nurse looked at her suspiciously again, not buying it, as Deanna's eyes remained trained on the spot where Riker had walked out the door a moment ago.


	6. Chapter 6

The next afternoon, the Doctor chimed outside the Captain's office.

"Come," the voice ordered and the doctor strode in to find the captain at the replicator, picking up a teacup with tea in it.

"Doctor, please, sit down. Would you like something to drink?" He gestured to his teacup.

"Yes, thank you," replied the redhead, ordering herself a coffee and settling down in the chair opposite her Captain in a familiar routine.

"How is the Counselor this morning?" He asked casually.

The doctor took a sip of coffee and then replied "Very well I think. I'm going to have her return to her quarters this evening. She'll do fine there recuperating."

"Is she still...in harms way?" The Captain asked, concerned.

"No, not at all. She's been on the road to recovery for a couple days now but the whole experience took such a toll on her body, it took her some time to recover. Now that she can take care of herself, shes better off in her own home until she returns to active duty."

"And when do you expect that will be? We reach Spectrai in less than a week," the Captain was weighing his options as he spoke.

"Not for a couple more days at least, at least for full active duty. She can return to limited duty tomorrow. Desk duty only. She's not going to be combat or field duty ready yet." The doctor paused for another sip of coffee. "I tell you Jean Luc, we really dodged a bullet on this one. We were so close to losing her. I haven't felt that helpless in a long time." She focused on her coffee, avoiding his look, not wanting to meet his eye.

"I am sure, Beverly, that the fact that she survived that experience with minimal long term consequences is due mostly to you and your dedication."

Though she was grateful for the Captains words, she shrugged and rolled her eyes a little, bit did feel a little comforted.

"Doctor, do I need to worry about Riker and Troi. Going forward?" The Captain asked.

The doctor thought for a moment before answering. "No, I don't think so. They've never been anything but professional in the past. I don't think they will let whatever they are dealing with affect their mission and duty to this ship and crew."

The Captain nodded slowly, "And what about Will and Deanna? What about them?" He looked at his friend with his eyebrows raised.

The doctor tilted her head slightly. "If I figure that out, I will let you know," she replied.

Later than evening, Deanna Troi sat on her couch, feet curled under her, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. She was purusing the list of communications she'd missed while she was in Sick Bay, but in truth she was just scanning for interesting and/or personal messages. She'd tackle the real catching up tomorrow.

The chime on her door rang and without looking up, she replied "come in" and then looked up as Will Riker's form stood in the door frame.

"Will!" She said, without surprise but with great affection. She moved to stand a little too quickly, catching herself with an arm on her table as the dizziness overtook her for a moment.

"Deanna," He said, moving to her quickly, holding her by the shoulders, steadying her. He looked at her carefully in her eyes. Her normal pale luminescence now looked frail but her eyes held as much depth as always. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she replied simply. He looked at her again, skeptical this time. Seeing his look, she went on "I get tired easily still, and a little lightheaded is all." She downplayed the physical effects as best she could, knowing that it wasn't working. Not with Will Riker.

Something was different, she thought. She couldn't put her finger on it. She had wondered why he'd been so distant. She sensed his emotions carefully, not wanting to get in too deep.

Will too was taking in everything around him. The feel or her, the scent of her, the soft skin around her collarbone, the shadows under her eyes. And with the slight buzzing in his head, he felt like he was just a little bit in a fog. He shook his head slightly and led Deanna back to where she'd been sitting.

"I'm glad you're doing well. You had us all scared there for a while," he said simply.

"So Dr Crusher tells me," the woman replied. "I was unconscious for most of it so..." she gave a small shrug.

Now or never, he thought. "Deanna," He started. Then he paused. She looked up at him from her seated position, expectant. "How much do you remember?" He asked. Then he paused. "Or rather, what do you know about what happened?"

She looked at him quizzically, like she wasn't quite sure what she was asking. She inferred there was something important that he was referring to but couldn't place it.

"Honestly, not much, and what I do remember is not linear," she said vaguely. She could feel his frustration, his eagerness, and became irritated because she didn't know what he wanted from her.

"Deanna," He said in a voice that seemed to say 'I know there is more.'

Calmly, too calmly, she replied "I don't know what you want from me, Will." She looked at him intently.

"Don't you?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

He came and sat down next to her. "Do you remember before Dr Crusher brought you to sick bay? What DO you remember?" He could see she was genuinely perplexed.

"I remember feeling horrible, completely overwhelmed, starting to panic. I remember talking to someone, maybe Beverly? I was hot and cold and had a horrible headache. The emotions of the crew were overwhelming in every sense of the word." Her response was vague, almost purposefully so. She didn't truly remember, but did have some flashes of memory. Her hands burning, feeling hot, Beverly's cool touch, the sound of shattery glass, an overwhelming feeling of panic and dread. There was also an overwhelming sense of Will Riker. She didn't know what that meant or why.

"Do you remember me coming to my see you in your quarters?" He asked quietly.

She looked up at him. "No," she said simply. Then she paused, checked herself. "Possibly? It's all such a mess."

Will sighed and looked at her again. He could tell she was frustrated with herself for not remembering. But also knew, somehow, that she was holding something back.

"You told Dr Crusher not to let me in to your quarters." He watched her carefully for a response. Not getting much of one, he went on. "I wasn't aware of this though, and came to see how you were. Dr Crusher gave a very ominous update and I was worried for you. I think what you described is what was going on when I arrived."

Deanna sat quietly in the couch, mug held in her lap? Her dark eyes following Will Rikers every minute move.

"You threw a pot at my head," he said with a smirk in his voice.

Deanna's head snapped to attention. "I did WHAT?"

"You threw a pot at my head. The little white one with the plant in it that used to sit on your desk."

"Why would I do that? Will! I don't rememebr that at all? Did I hit you? Did it hurt?"

"No, you didn't hit me. You must not have been trying too hard," he said. "Deanna, I heard you yelling at me to get out, that you couldn't control your mind." The desperation was palpable. Hers then, his now.

Deanna's forehead creased. He went on "Deanna. I heard you. Out loud. In my mind."

A sudden realization came over the small Betazoid. "Oh. I see," she said simply. And looked down at her mug again.

"Deanna, we owe it to ourselves to be truthful here. How long have you known?" He asked.

"How long have I known?" She asked. "How long have I known what?"

"Imzadi," Will said, "how long have you known this connection still exists?"

"Don't you dare, 'Imzadi' me right now, Will Riker," She said quickly. "And what do you mean how long have I known? It's not new Will, I've known as long as you."

"But..." He stammered, "after we...parted, it wasn't the same."

"No, it wasn't. But it was still there," she replied. "It's not something that is just turned off. It doesn't work like that."

"But...So...for all these years, we still had this connection? And I was unaware of it? How is that possible, Deanna? I never had the control over it that you did. How is it that this bond remained in existence without my knowledge?" He was angry, and hurt, and defensive.

"You left, Will! Do I need to say it again? You left. You made the decision that Starfleet was the most important thing in your life and you left. What did you think was going to happen? It would just turn off?"

"So you did know. And you were controlling it." He said it quietly, the dawning of the betrayal spreading over him. "Don't you think I deserved to know? Did you have the right to just keep that from me? That a part of me was still connected to you?"

"Will, YOU. LEFT. What would you have had me do? Should I have left it wide open? So I could feel from across the galaxy every time you put yourself in mortal danger? So I could know every time you fell in love with the next exotic alien? So I could sense your sexual conquests from across the Alpha Quadrant? I didn't do it to spite you, William Riker. I did it to protect myself."

Riker felt his heart sink. Once again he had blundered into an emotional sink hole. He rubbed his hand over his face, squeezing his temples and the down to rub his beard. 'Okay, he thought. We're doing this.' He found the place in his mind where he knew Deanna existed and let it expand. He felt her anguish, her fatigue, and her simmering anger at him.

"Deanna," He said simply. "I'm sorry." He would apologize until the end of his days for the hurt he had caused this creature.

"You're sorry," She said pointedly, almost sharply. "Yes. I know." She stood slowly and made her way to the replicator to put down her mug. She turned, moving gingerly still, to keep the dizziness at bay and looked at him, eyes large with expectation.

"Tell me," He said.

"I didn't plan it that way. With you gone, I thought the emotions would be less somehow, and in a way they did become less but also it became more difficult to manage. Like a part of my soul was always searching for you. You must have felt something similar. Like you were always expecting something but it never happened." She looked at her former lover.

He nodded back at her. "Yes, I know that feeling. I've never been able to place it until now."

She went on, "It became exhasuting, to have my soul always searching. Slowly I learned to block it from happening, a practice of refusal of acknowledgement I guess. After a while it was done subconsciously and I didn't think much of it. Until..." she paused.

He filled in what she wasn't saying. "Until Farpoint."

She nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "When I saw you on the bridge that first day, I didn't know what to expect. And then when you didn't seem to have any interest in the link, I didn't change anything. I didn't really realize you thought it didn't exist anymore. I assumed you knew that a separation alone can't sever the link."

"Well, I know NOW," he said, with almost a wry humor in his voice.

"You realize what I am saying, Imzadi?" she asked, purposefully using that word. "The link isn't something that I, or you, or WE, can change. It is there until it isn't. No matter what I, or you, want."

Riker gazed at her, studying her face. "You mean this telepathic bond exist regardless of what we want?"

"In a way yes, when we fell it love Will, it was created, and until that changes it will exist, even if we are on opposite sides of the known universe," she replied.

She had once looked up case studies of severed Imzadi bonds. Other than death, she had found 5 cases. Three where the couple had mutually chosen their own ways and the link dissolved unexpectedly. One where the couple simply ceased to have a telepathic link for an unproven, but suspected case of "falling out of love," and one where one partner had changed so much that the couple was not linked, even though the second partner was still willing. The rest of the research seemed to indicate that, even if separated and unwilling to share a life together, an Imzadi link remained if the partners still felt for each other the emotions that forged the link in the first place. This felt like more explanation than she wanted to give at this point.

Their familiarity and intimacy as well as the nature of their conversation made their connection much more obvious, to both parties, but especially to Riker, after having no experience for the past several years. He could sense her unease and hesitancy at the topic, and some anxiety at what his reaction would be and underlying that, he could barely sense it but it was there, regret? He reached out with his mind, rusty though it was and tried to cast a message to her '_Do you regret it all then? Do you regret everything we had before?' _

He was shocked at the ease at which he could do it. "Like riding a bike" popped unwittingly into his head, though that seemed somewhat inappropriate.

Surprised, Deanna replied out loud "So you haven't forgotten!?" The she paused for a moment. "What in the world is the Captain going to say. Do we need to tell him? What's the protocol for this kind of thing? I don't think there is one." She wondered out loud. She didn't answer his question. Truthfully, she didn't know the answer yet.

"Ahh, about the Captain, well, uh. We probably don't need to tell him, only because he probably already knows. Beverly told him." Riker told Troi, slightly chagrined.

"_Beverly_ told him?" She replied, aghast. "What did she know about it? You told Beverly, Will? WHAT exactly happened while I was unconscious??" She swayed slightly on her feet but didn't want to sit. That felt like an imbalance of power as long as Will was still standing.

He held up his hands in defense. "I didn't tell her." He replied quickly. "Deanna, please..." he implicated, seeing her sway. "Sit down please. I don't want to have to call Beverly and explain why you passed out. Deanna closed her eyes and nodded, knowing he was right. She was so tired. This conversation, and the renewed activity of her telepathic link, was exhasuting her already meager supply of energy. Will came towards her and took her by the elbow, escorting her back to the couch before she could protest. His touch made her mind tingle. She could feel that he noticed it too.

"Tell me. Tell me it all," she said.

Will looked at her directly. "After you yelled at me, in my head, and threw the pot at me, it felt like my head had a knife going through it. Beverly saw me outside in the corridor and ordered me to Sick Bay. A test that they ran revealed I had elevated neurotransmitters, the type that a human should not have. They treated me with one of the medications that they were using on you and after that the levels dropped. That's when I found out that you were speaking, or yelling rather, telepathically. I hadn't realized it before, but none of the medical staff heard it. Anyway, Deanna, when you were saying you couldn't control it, you didn't mean the emotions of the crew, you meant you couldn't control your link with my mind." He looked at her, daring her to contradict him. "You couldn't. I felt everything, and it was horrendous."

Deanna sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said "Will, I'm so sorry. I never imagined it would be like that. If I had known... I never would have..."

"Have what? Kept it a secret? Surely you had some inkling or you would not have told Beverly to keep me out. We could have both been killed." Riker looked at her intently. Not shying away from the confrontation.

"I didn't realize not having control would go both ways with you. By the time I did it was too late. I'm sorry," she said. She bent forward and rubbed her temples. She was developing an excruciating headache. Unfortunately Will knew it. "So how did Beverly figure it out?"

"She put two and two together, then she told me and the Captain what she thought. I couldn't really deny it right there," he replied.

She bent down again, keeping her head in her hands. "Deanna," Will asked. "Please, can I help you lie down? I felt a fraction of what you went through. Please let me help."

"No, Will, I'm okay. Really. I just need some time." She resettled herself on the couch as if to imply she wasn't moving.

Where do we go from here, Deanna?" Will asked.

She looked up at him, feeling very small seated on the couch while he towered next to her. She gave a small shrug and a small smile.

"Well, for what it's worth," he said as he bent down to press his lips to her head, "I am glad you're okay. I'll check on you later."

She smiled a small, slightly sad smile at him again, disappointed at the loss at what had become an easy commraderie.

He turned and walked slowly to the doors. As they opened for him to step out into the corridor, he heard her in his head, without pain, with only a comfortable familiarity he hadn't known he had missed.

"_No. I don't," _the voice said. "_I don't regret it. Not any of it." _

Riker paused, and turned to smile at her again, a smile that she returned, as he returned to his quarters to think.


End file.
